


Against Expectations

by Eyrdamun



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink meme fill set, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15118652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyrdamun/pseuds/Eyrdamun
Summary: He knows Akechi has mixed feelings for him- for everything, really. So it's only natural for Ren to expect him to be rough when they finally become more intimate.[Kink meme fill set]





	1. Silk instead of asphalt

~~~~The newly bought concealer hides in his bedside drawer, not too far away from the lube he knows Akechi won’t be using too much when the time comes.

  
They’ve been dating for a while, have both been craving this, planning for it.  
  
‘I hate how you make me feel’, Ren is sure Akechi would whisper, growl in frustration even, as they undress. He can imagine him biting, pushing, all blunt and teeth and nails above him as they move synchronously on the bed. But if he were being honest, he is certain that he himself wouldn’t be moving as much as being moved, shoved in the aftershocks of rough thrusting as Akechi looms over him.  
  
Ren’s hand travels down his abdomen and plays with the waistband of his sweatpants.  
  
He allows the recollection of Morgana ditching him for Futaba to break his fantasy momentarily. He can’t afford to not take his chances to imagine. After all, all this daydreaming is preparation.  
  
Like he imagines Akechi would do, he scratches his stomach to echo the sting in his fantasy and pushes his sweats down violently enough he thinks he heard a thread snap. Kind of like he would imagine Akechi’s patience snapping as he pours his mixed feelings all into one and into Ren’s willing body.  
  
Ren moans as his own hands squeezes his skin with enough strength to leave faint bruises. They would heal in two days at most, unlike the ones he knows his boyfriend would litter on him. But that's ok, he is prepared to hide them and is almost ready to completely be able to deal with them. On the other hand, he doesn’t know how he’ll hide the flesh that would be sunk in and breached from bite marks and sharp teeth, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there in a few days.

  
  
(His fingers are sticky with himself when he is done. But Ren, Ren is still imagining Akechi, what he would do, what he would say-  
  
He cleans fingers on his own thigh as Akechi hisses in his ear, in his mind, to get cleaned up.)

  
  
Akechi guides him to the bed with a delicate dance and even more delicate hands. They caress his waist, his back, his spine, everything over the clothes. They make the fabric scrunch up with their movement as if it were a butterfly kiss light extension of his touch.  
  
Ren stumbles a foot away from the bed and Akechi’s reflexes holds him up.  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
Ren nods, suddenly dizzy, and it takes him a second to find his voice. “Don’t chicken out on me now.”  
  
The ex-detective twirls their bodies to cross the remaining distance to the bed and he sits on it. Hooking a finger on the belt loops of Ren’s jeans, he brings him down to his lap in a motion that feels strangely soft. There was no real pull behind the motion, just a soft guidance.  
  
Maybe he’s building up to it. Maybe he is being all gentle and tender to make him feel floaty on purpose before the ache in his veins becomes physical, before he curls his fingers around his throat to pin him down to the mattress as Akechi satiates himself with his body-  
  
“Ren.”  
  
Akechi’s thumb is rubbing circles on his hip and Ren can’t help but to melt a little bit. It’s a pleasant touch, a great companion to the concerned look Akech—  
  
“Akechi?”  
  
His concern shifts to longing and his smile seems too small. Just now, Akechi called him by his first name, didn’t he?  
  
“…Amamiya. If you have any second thoughts, let’s stop.”  
  
Ren shakes his head, and despite the fact he sits on his lap, despite the fact that he is certain Akechi could and should be able to feel his arousal no matter how slight it would be, the fact that he grounds himself more on him and leans down to steal a kiss, it still feels like there’s a wall between them.  
  
Akechi is hesitant to continue further too fast and Ren finds himself trying to build up the momentum to what they both have been craving for, hips thrusting and grinding. He can feel Akechi tenting against him as Ren pulls at the neck of Akechi’s shirt like a leash. His thin fingers thread in brown strands and Ren bares his neck as he pulls the other closer.  
  
Akechi shudders, his breath hitches and his hands twitch.  
  
However, instead of biting, he just kisses his pulse with a feather-light brush of his lips.  
  
It’s so gentle that Ren almost whines. He settles for twisting his fingers further in his boyfriend’s hair and pulling his head closer to his flesh. He feels a huff of air against his skin, Akechi trying to find a more comfortable position as Ren’s thighs press their intimacies firmly together. Every breath, every beat of their heart, feels like a soft grinding.  
  
Again, Akechi’s hands start moving about his back, this time dragging and pulling the hem of Ren’s shirt off his upper body and throwing it carelessly to the floor. The gesture brings out a noise in the back of Ren’s throat, a groan because soon, soon he’ll be the one thrown about with as much nonchalance.  
  
After all, Akechi’s teeth and tongue joined his lips in caressing his neck and shoulders. It was all a matter of time.  
  
When there’s a hand on his bicep and the tell tale of a shove tingles on his muscle, Ren does his best to relax and go with the flow. But then not suddenly at all, Akechi’s other hand wraps around his back as he turns them both slowly onto the bed. Throughout the motion, Akechi’s mouth massages at his clavicle as his hands cradle him.  
  
Ren’s head doesn’t even bounce when it hits the pillow.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
All movement against his skin stops.  
  
“Oh,” Akechi’s eyes widen a bit before he blinks his surprise away. He licks his lips shyly, and Ren feels blood rushing to his face and coursing his cheeks as it maps the shocked terrain. He wonders what face he is making to catch Akechi off guard like this. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Akechi stretches his arms and puts more distance between them, their chests and their beating hearts. He pretends to school his breathing into something more unaffected. A glance down shows Ren that he is hard however, and if they are both aroused, then why -  
  
“Did you want to be the one to…?” He makes a motion to himself and Ren’s stare turns confused. “With how you were acting, I just assumed you wanted me to take charge.”  
  
“Wha- yeah, that’s,” Ren laughs, snakes his arms around Akechi and makes his arms bend. He kisses his forehead, gifts a trail from it to Akechi's lips. “That’s what I want.”  
  
Akechi’s forearm frame his head, Ren’s black curls tickle the skin there. He feels the bed dip and move as he rearranges himself so his weight is balanced on his forearms and his hands free. No longer bound to carry Akechi's weight, they twirl with Ren’s hair as he hums above him.  
  
“And…”  
  
Akechi is gentle above him. The petting leaves him boneless in a way he didn’t expect to feel. At least not in that moment, in that position, as he chases after what Akechi wants to say. “And?”  
  
“And how do you want it?”  
  
Ren echoes Akechi’s previous hum and his eyes half-lid. “However you want it.”  
  
Akechi’s eyes feel like molten magma even as hesitation flickers through them and his mouth descends to steal his breath away. Except it feels more like coaxing, more like Ren is sighing all the air in his lungs out and forgetting to breathe more in as the insistent but not rough at all lips work his. He is still quiet, silent, until a tongue slithers in and he shudders out an exhale around it.  
  
“Breathe,” the word tangoes with a chuckle.  
  
“I am.” The reply is mouthed around a wet muscle and against white porcelain teeth.  
  
They undress between kisses and touches Ren can’t keep up with. There’s too much heat accumulating under his skin, he didn’t prepare himself for this. He didn’t prepare for Akechi to not let himself go. So he moves, he scratches a path down his back through the fabric of the button up shirt Akechi still unfairly wears.  
  
He all but tears the shirt off and throws it even farther away than his own shirt.  
  
“Impatient…”  
  
Ren’s hand splay against his boyfriend’s ribs, thumb brushing a nipple. Akechi sighs, lips twitching upwards and eyelashes fluttering. “How are you not?”  
  
Akechi smiles against Ren’s cheek, slides his face down and buries it in his neck. There, his smile feels like a knife and Ren shudders.  
  
“What makes you think that?”  
  
“You’re too collected.” Ren’s hand venture down Akechi’s side, travel to his ass and squeeze as he brings their bodies closer. Akechi hisses, his voice reminiscent of rage and rebellion, the voice Ren heard in his head, the one that he prepared for and knows is the harbinger of his fantasies come to life.  
  
“There are multiple ways of losing control, you know?”  
  
The words are spoken like a growl and Ren shivers again.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
The weight on top of Ren becomes more firm. A huff of breath is let out against his pulse and Akechi undulates his hips slowly. “Yeah, trust me. I was an expert on that.”  
  
Ren thinks he still is, but keeps quiet. There’s no need for him to reply with words, just with his body. And he does just that, opens himself up and makes it easier for Akechi to touch him, to kiss him, to bite him, to push him down, hurt---  
  
Akechi blows air into his ear before biting the lobe and sucking.  
  
It’s going to be a long night, Ren knows as his and Akechi’s clothes are discarded under gentle hands.

  
  
(There’s a split second, a moment where he thinks, “Let’s stop, let’s try another day, I’m not ready, I didn’t think—”  
  
He hushes the insecurity down, uses Akechi’s considerate touch to choke it down.)

  
  
Akechi’s mouth passes his chest, litters it with kisses and licks and with the caresses of teeth. Bruises will bloom, Ren is willing to bet they will last even less than the ones he painted on himself and- and he isn’t ready for that.  
  
“Could you,” Ren’s throat and mouth are in contradiction. One is too dry and the other too wet, his voice gets lost somewhere along the way and he tries again. “I mean, you can leave marks, you know.”  
  
Akechi sucks lightly at his hip.  
  
“…I’m serious, Akech-”  
  
His teeth sink into the jut of his hip, harder than all the other times yet not as hard as he imagined. There’s no bleeding apart from the bleeding of his breath, his lungs unable to inhale for a a dizzying moment. A small sound bleeds through his lips, Ren’s finger curling against Akechi’s trapezius.  
  
“Goro…” The name tastes strange on his tongue. The whisper pilgrims from vocal chords to his boyfriend’s ear and he feels the crashing of waves against his skin, feels the way Akech- Goro- burns and rises from ashes against his flesh. Reborn, ardent, the teeth are more insistent against his skin.  
  
They aren’t a maw, canines ready to reap and tear asunder.  
  
His preparation only just left him more unprepared- Goro’s fingers are tender as they circle him.  
  
“Take out the lube for me, Ren.”  
  
_Yeah_ , Ren sings in his head under the orchestrating of the digits against him and teeth on him. _Yeah, yeah_ \- his hand lacks his usual grace as it searches his drawer for it- _yeah, yeah_.  
  
Goro snickers and Ren looks down to meet his smirk as he hands the lube to him.  
  
“You were muttering, you know. I couldn’t quite catch what it was though.”  
  
“You always talk a lot, huh?”  
  
Goro’s eyes smile at his banter as he busies himself slathering his fingers with the lube. Ren thinks it overkill, wonders through how much of it he’s planning on going through on a first time, and then doesn’t wonder at all when Goro spread Ren’s thigh and settles between them.  
  
“Ok?”  
  
“Yeah.” _Yeah, yeah_ —  
  
Goro leans as he moves down the bed, brings his face to Ren’s intimacy. His labored breath fans against him and _fuck, fu_ -  
  
“Is this still ok?”  
  
“Do you want me to physically guide you?” The question lacks all bite, if Goro’s flush means anything, if the way the breathing hitches against him, on him and- _yes_. “Goro, there are very little things you could do that wouldn’t be ok.”  
  
He can see memories flashing in red irises, wants to deny that the very same thoughts flash through his own eyes, but doesn’t want to think about it. They were past that, they’ve come a long way.  
  
“Ren…”  
  
“You want it-- I want this.”  
  
He thinks about adding a please. Thinks about it, decides against it and how unnecessary it is when Goro brings his lips against him and welcomes him in the warmth of his mouth.  
  
It's hot, it's velvety, it's thoughts that last a second and not at all. The tongue that laps him is gentle while the lubed fingers press against his entrance but not breaching it. The fluid on them rubs onto him and the coolness that comes when Goro breathes out on him is...  
  
It's something. It's a feeling. It's nicely opposing the heat pooling inside of him and his thighs spread wider, his back arches. The distance between them is shrinking and Ren gives chase after the mouth on him, after the fingers against him until a hand firmly plants itself on his waist and pins him to the bed.  
  
"You're going to hurt yourself like this."  
  
"I'm just speeding up the show to the part you'll like best how you'll like best."  
  
Goro disentangles himself from him, props himself on his elbow between Ren's legs. "What the fuck?"  
  
It feels cold, so Ren reaches out and tries to pull him back in.  
  
"No," Goro slaps his hand away gently enough but it still stings.  
  
"Seriously, have you been listening to yourself at all? Let's talk about this."  
  
It's Ren turn to sit up.  
  
"Right now?" Mixed feelings are one thing he knew Goro had for him, and staring from between his legs at his boyfriend, his boyfriend with lube in his fingers and dick hard, just drives that point home. " _Now_ now?"  
  
Goro shoots him a pointed look.  
  
"Look, nothing's up. I'm sure you can see how into this I am-" he even tasted it"- I just want you to let yourself go for once."  
  
Red eyes examine him too closely and not close enough. Ren motions to sit up fully so that he can wrap his arms around Goro but halts when he feels a pair of hands caressing his thighs. "I told you." There's a glint of anger when he speaks and Goro has flagged a bit. "People lose control in different ways."  
  
The hands squeeze him in comfort and they don't hurt.  
  
"Do you want me?"  
  
They don't hurt at all and Ren doesn’t have to contemplate his answer at all. "Of course. "  
  
"Then have me, as I am." Goro's voice is low, and Ren doesn't know if the words are dipped in threat or in promise.  
  
Somehow, he twitches and falls back at the words. It's embarrassing, his face flushes as he watches Goro breathe in deep. His hand journey up his thigh, left thumb rubbing at his base and Ren's eyes grow heavy.  
  
"I want you to feel good..." Goro's voice trails off loaded with desire and it finishes pushing Ren down on his back. "I want to make you feel good because of me, because..."  
  
He doesn't say. His fingers work Ren back up, as if the mood hadn't been broken at all. As if the only broken thing in the room had been Ren's hard breathing. Ren doesn't say he didn't expect him to be like this. He can't when Goro silences him with his mouth as one lone finger prods at his entrance. It doesn't slip in, not yet, not then, before it goes back to swiping back and forth against it lightly.  
  
He wriggles his hips as he barely finds it in him to whisper a plea against a starving mouth. It isn't ravenous, feels more akin to a waiting beast that knows, knows that by making the kisses last, it will be fed more. As thunder courses through his nerves when a digit penetrates him, Ren realizes that he backed his own self into this sensitively weak mess. He must have made a noise, Goro is looking at him intensely as he prepares him.  
  
"Ok?"  
  
Ren replies by bucking his hips to the momentum of the digit and by pulling Goro into a new kiss, hungrier than the one before. The finger inside of him is joined by a second one and Ren reaches between their bodies to grab at Goro's wrist and pull him in deeper. He's stopped, his wrists pinned over his head.  
  
"You're seriously going to hurt yourself. " Ren's disbelief must have shown on his face because Goro doesn't wait before he continues speaking. "Let me take my time, until we are both experience enough, you masochistic idiot."  
  
Ren lets him, lets him curl his fingers and drag them in spots that leave Ren breathless and turn him vocal. There are three fingers inside of him, coaxing him and both melting and tensing him. Ren bites his bottom lip to stifle a groan, but Goro is having none of that. "Let me hear you, let me know I'm doing a good job."  
  
While he lets him know, his knees tremble and his fingers dig into the sheets where they are pinned. A nail catches his nipple between it and skin, Ren keens. It takes too long for Goro to decide he's ready, yet when the time comes, Ren whines at the emptiness and futilely chases after him.

  
Goro is gone and he hears a package being ripped.  
  
He opens his eyes, wonders when he closed them and when his hands were set free to dig into the pillow his resting head lies on. The sound of crinkling plastic reaches him again and his eyes focus on Goro as he leans above him, on the way his lips open gently with a moan. Ren wants to unanchor his fingers from their hold but can't. He decides to follow with his eyes the lines down Goro's neck, down his stomach to where they are about to come together. He sees Goro coating the condom he wears with lube, sees how his hardness glints and the slick around it reflects the light as it drips down into the sheet.  
  
"You didn't have to use so much." Ren doesn't have the energy to be surprised at how undone he sounds.  
  
"Better safe than sorry. "  
  
Ren only hums and Goro presses the head against his entrance.  
  
"Don't make me beg."  
  
"You already begged a couple of times already, didn't you?" Goro laughs and Ren thinks he should get a thought filter for himself. "It sounds wonderful, but I'll let you be this time. "  
  
With that, he pushes in gently and Ren remembers how to move his arms again. He moves them to clutch at Goro's biceps, hopes his nails dig in enough to transfer the heat building up to a melting point around his bones to his boyfriend.  
  
It doesn't dissipate from his flesh, the heat just grows as Goro moves even slower until he comes to a full stop.  
  
"Am I hurting you? "  
  
Ren would have sassed him back if it weren't for the worry tainting the pleasure on Goro's face.  
  
"More."  
  
"Ren..." He twitches around the girth penetrating him and squirms to bring him in deeper. Goro's mouth opens wider, an _oh_ escaping his lips as he forces his eyes to remain open. "Alright," he says but Ren knows he's watching his every reaction for any sign to stop.  
  
Goro begins moving again, sheathing himself fully for a few seconds before thrusting out and in as delicately as the initial thrust. It makes Ren's blood sing and his breathing labour. He finds himself following the back and forth, echoing it in ways he didn't imagine he would. His breath stuttering, his thighs twitching, eyelids fluttering and eyes unseeing as instinct starts to slowly gain control.  
  
Goro notices it all, begins to move faster in angles that bring out all those reactions and more.  
  
It's only after Goro's name becomes a whisper molded to his tongue as something wet and warm moves in the crook of his neck and the thrusting remains firm and kind, that Ren finds enough presence of mind to see again. The first thing he notices is the ceiling moving up and down his sight. The second thing is Goro's hair, brown and messy, as he mouths at the once thief's pulse in an awkward position.  
  
Only when Goro finds that spot inside of him that makes his heart pulse pure pleasure in his veins that he realizes he's the one moving, not the ceiling, and that Goro's head was angled to hear him better.  
  
He doesn't know how Goro is thrusting with so much strength yet so softly. Or maybe he could know, but all the thrusting aims better and better at the spot inside of him until Goro is hitting it dead on. And Ren, Ren is clutching harder onto his boyfriend and moaning louder and louder until his voice is no longer a whisper. It almost drowns out what Goro is saying, mouth running against his skin.  
  
"Just like that," Goro speaks, words breathy and aimless, "Just like that, tell me how good it is, Ren." He has no idea what he means because if he is certain of one thing, it's that he can't say anything but Goro's name.  
  
Again, Ren trails a hand between their torsos and down his stomach. He knows better now, he knows that Goro's nails are blunt and trimmed, that his movement is somehow strong but without any purpose to hurt. Goro does his best to make way for the hand that snakes between their rib cages and down their abs with an apology on his tongue.  
  
"Give me time and I'll be able to take care of you myself-"  
  
_You really talk too much._  
  
Ren's free hand tangles itself in brown locks and he locks their mouth in a kiss, fingers working himself at the tempo of Goro's thrusting.  
  
It's cute how Goro's moan turns into a growl, Ren thinks as he tastes the sound.

  
  
(They come so close together that neither could say who was first. There's a relaxed smile pulling at Goro's lips as his arms fail him and he falls on Ren.  
  
He's gorgeous like this.  
  
The smile melts a bit, a small sneer finding its way into his features. "In five minutes, let's go get cleaned up. "  
  
He rolls off into the bed, arms open in an invitation that Ren takes as he makes a noise of agreement that ends up sounding like a purr instead of the nonchalant sound he aimed for.)

  
  
"Please stop."  
  
"- and then I looked down and he was masturbating himself while spreading the lube on his dick."  
  
"That's nice...?" Haru offers and Makoto buries her face in her hands.  
  
"It was!" Ryuji makes a face at his oversharing best friend. "Oh- he's actually pretty veiny, it gave him a really nice texture when he was insi-"  
  
"Ren, I love you, but I'm eating a crêpe. Don't go into that much detail..."  
  
"Would saying that it's a tiny bit crooked- but in a cute way- be too much too?"  
  
Ryuji flops lower in his sit with a groan. "Yes! I bet Yusuke could paint you a portrait of it."  
  
"I actually could not with the provided information. I don't even dab into realism for personal paintings. Moreover, it wouldn't be a portrait in the first place..."  
  
"That's good to hear," Ren says slowly. They are all quiet for a second- save for Futaba who has been blasting ear deafening volumes of the Featherman sound track directly into her ears. "Anyway, he was super gentle the whole time. You'd think that being penetrated by something this-” he curls his fingers in a circle for illustration ”- wide would hurt, but all the lube and time he spent fingering me worked wonders. Seriously--"  
  
Morgana considers disconnecting Futaba’s headphones from her laptop to drown him out.


	2. For a Crow's Eyes Only

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written a looooong time ago for the kink meme. I was reminded it existed and then my friend told me to post it and here we are. You can see how much my writing changed

Sharing a bed with Kurusu is… nice. It’s warm.   
  
Akechi has mixed feelings about how comfortable his body feels. Then again, Akechi goes hand in hand with mixed feelings, and it keeps him up most nights. Tonight is one of them, where thoughts of plans passed, plans to be and plans that will be plague him like a disease.   
  
Kurusu sleeps soundly besides him, Morgana gone somewhere. Akechi didn’t really bother paying attention to where or why. Honestly, he didn’t pay attention too much after Kurusu offered his bed for them to share.    
  
“The last train is passing in a minute- you won’t make it in time,” Kurusu told him as he fiddled around with his phone. “You should stay over. I don’t mind.”   
  
Kurusu shrugged and shot him a small smile as if he were talking about the weather over LeBlanc’s counter, and by the time Akechi remembered his bicycle chained up outside of LeBlanc’s door, he already had a spare toothbrush and spare clothes pressed into his hands. The detective could only watch then as the thief walked around the room, talking about the shitty couch as if it weren’t even a feasible option. It was unsettling, it was and is appealing, and he lies in bed for the night with someone he’ll have to kill at some point in the following weeks.    
  
Someone whose death will be framed as a suicide in a basement interrogation room, a plan that is, so that a revenge, a plant that will be, can be executed and plans, lives, that passed justified.   
  
The leader of the Phantom Thieves doesn’t deserve it, but the world is hardly ever any fair. Akechi doesn’t get the luxury to ponder about it much longer before a weight presses against him.   
  
It’s Kurusu snuggling backwards. The sleeping teen is on his side with his back pressing against Akechi’s arm, and sighs in his sleep. It makes Akechi tense and wish the bed were bigger, that he were sleeping on the floor, or that he had fought harder when he remembered the bike he had parked outside. Even if it would have been unpleasant to bike back home in the coldness of the night, there wouldn’t have been as many mixed feelings.   
  
He can deal with absolute displeasure better than the duality of loving and hating something.   
  
Kurusu has the guts to breathe in deeper in his sleep, his lungs expanding so that his back presses a bit more firmly. He exhales as deeply, back retracting its pressure like the waves of the sea, and Akechi wants to chase it just as much as he wants to roll off the bed, onto the cold wooden floor of the dusty and crappy cafe attic.   
  
Instead, Akechi lies still as Kurusu buries his face into the pillow all the while he brings the blankets closer to himself. He exposes Akechi to the cold air slightly, and the detective wants to groan. He tries to pull the blankets far enough so that they may cover his whole body but gives up after Kurusu’s fifth tug and squirm.   
  
It’s like sleeping with a cat, Akechi thinks. Always stretching and moving into your personal space for warmth without a care. Without even considering rejection as a possibility.   
  
Akechi wishes he could be like that. He wishes he could get what he wants, touch what-whom- he wants, feel what he wants to feel without the jaws of worries for rejection, or scorn, or failure holding him in a headlock.   
  
Plans that are, plans to be, plans that were- they were all crafted for an adoring and hateful, oh so watchful, public.    
  
If no one could see, if he could pluck their eyes, things would be easier and worst. It’s unnerving, Akechi squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will the thoughts away from his mind. He can hear a huff, Loki’s blindness and Robin Hood’s scrutiny as they breathe them away.   
  
Think of something else, Robin Hood speaks.   
  
Fight disease with disease, Loki suggests.   
  
Kurusu is warm against him, Akechi tells them. They encourage him with silence, and Akechi turns to the thief’s back. In the dim light of the alleyway that filters in through the window, he is taken by the way Kurusu’s black hair curls around the nape of his neck and around the shell of his exposed ear. Pale, pale skin peeks through the strands curiously and there’s something playful about it. Kurusu snuggles against his pillow again and his hair caresses his skin with the care of petals dancing in the wind.   
  
There’s something soft about it.   
  
There’s something lovely for the eyes, Robin Hood says.   
  
There might be something lovelier for the touch, Loki hums.   
  
Akechi gulps and he turns to lie on his side, forgetting how deeply Akira breathes in, and his back presses against the detective's chest. And it’s nice and warm, nicer and warmer because now the blanket can actually cover him as Kurusu presses against him. But it’s uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than before because he wants to bring him to his chest and feel. He wants to bring him to his chest and feel his sleeping heartbeat against his own waking one, he wants to feel his body heat merging and mixing in with his own against the attic’s cold. He knows Kurusu is asleep and would be unable to fight him off, if he were to hold him.   
  
You’ve been alone for too long, Robin Hood sighs.   
  
No one has to know, Loki adds.   
  
The moon and night are as blind as justice, both personae whisper.   
  
Hesitantly, Akechi lays his left arm over Kurusu’s waist. It trembles as he holds it suspended in place, as he waits for a negative reaction, for the other to suddenly wake up and push him away, off, out. When seconds pass, he slowly descends his limb and the contact grows in pressure.   
  
Kurusu sighs once more and Akechi stills.    
  
The thief just squirms a bit, air puffed out from his mouth, and he scoots back more until he is pressed firmly against Akechi’s upper body. He then curls slightly, as if attempting to trap the detective’s arm between his stomach and his thighs.   
  
He’s too relaxed, Akechi finds.    
  
This room is usually cold, Robin Hood justifies.   
  
So are you though, Loki supplies.   
  
Akechi snickers and the motion pushes him forward until his face is buried in dark curls. Eyes closed, the strands against his eyelids, cheeks and lips are as soft as they look. It’s annoying how his first thought is about Robin Hood being right, how it’s much nicer to have his eyes open and see.   
  
He frees his right arm from where its wedge between their bodies and raises his upper arm to rest his head as he moves far enough so that the hair won't poke his open eyes nor get into his mouth. An awkward position, but he brings his right hand down and plays with Kurusu’s hair. His second thought about Loki being right, how it’s much nicer to touch and not just watch, is as annoying as the first.   
  
If he keeps the touch light enough, no one will know. But a light touch is subjective- Akechi wonders how much of a heavy sleeper Kurusu is as he twirls a black curl around his index. He watches enraptured with the way it wraps around his finger delicately and twirls like a ballerina in a music box. He never had one of those, he never understood their appeal, but he thinks that now he could start to comprehend.   
  
Kurusu breathes against him, surrounded by him, and Akechi feels as sick with nerves as he is happy with the contact between them. He scratches lightly the hair behind the thief’s ear, eyes widening as Kurusu has the audacity to lean against his fingers.   
  
In his sleep- he is asleep, right?   
  
“What the fuck.” His voice cannot even be qualified as a whisper, the words are merely mouthed into the night. He checks, the boy in his arm is asleep, comfortably and snuggly, and exposing more of his neck to Akechi’s touch..    
  
It must feel pleasant, Robin Hood excuses.   
  
You like this, Loki accuses.   
  
They are right and Akechi continues to caress his hair. Kurusu exhales deeper than before, so content, and Akechi wishes he could find the comptent under his skin to stop. Neither personae tries to talk him out of it, both soothed by the comfort of another’s contact and it pisses him off.   
  
Kurusu mumbles under his breath, lost in dreams.   
  
He hates how both parts of him want this, he hates how he is cuddling a thief that will be dead before November comes to an end.    
  
Don’t think, Robin Hood advices.   
  
Diseases, Loki hisses.   
  
Akechi tries to take back his hands, fingers getting tangled in Kurusu’s hair as if the commands of his brain were not even qualified as suggestions and his left arm curls tighter around the sleeping boy’s midsection.   
  
“Ah…”    
  
He feels the world stop around him as Kurusu shudders against him.   
  
Indecent, Robin Hood understands.   
  
Do it again, Loki commands.   
  
And Akechi does.    
  
“Oh…” It’s so soft he almosts misses it as it gets lost in the atmosphere. It’s softer than the pumping of Akechi’s blood as his heart speeds up.   
  
Against his chest, pressed closed and guarded, Kurusu’s heart beats barely faster.   
  
Akechi wants to take it as his own, safekeep it and stomp it. His fingers flexing in the roots of Kurusu’s hair and he puffs a breath against the back of the sleeping boy’s neck. Kurusu shivers and lets out a small note, the beginning of a melody Akechi should never hear and should never even think of hearing it. Kurusu most likely wouldn’t want him to.   
  
Untangle yourself, Robin Hood is the voice of reason.   
  
So you may touch him more easily, Loki is as much Robin Hood as Robin Hood is Loki.   
  
Kurusu dreams still and doesn’t side with either persona. Akechi doesn’t listen to either, curls around Kurusu’s body and keeps playing with his hair. He brings his mouth too close to Kurusu’s head as he leans his own away from the bed, his lips brushing against the thief’s nape as he breathes out harshly through his nostrils.   
  
His exasperation with himself hits the shell of Kurusu’s ear and amplifies. It becomes a sensation, a sound with a name, as it leaves the thief’s body through his lips and spine. Akechi can’t hold it against Kurusu- he can’t help himself or hide anything as he sleeps.   
  
He didn’t think his exasperation would sound like a gentle moan- it’s so nice, he hates it and it hates him back enough to haunt him.   
  
He hates too how pliant and vulnerable Kurusu is in his arms- why isn’t he waking up if his breath is becoming more laboured, why isn’t he waking up if he is shivering so openly, why isn’t he waking up from the pretty noises he makes as Akechi touches him and breathes against his skin in a poor imitation of a kiss?   
  
Kurusu is a troublesomely heavy sleeper.   
  
He wants him awake, pushing him off or maybe closer. He wants him awake, seeing his own body tremble under nothing like the virgin he most certainly is. He wants him awake, hearing the noises Akechi coaxes out of him as if they were abundant and given freely. He wants him awake so that he can sink his teeth in him.   
  
He wants him asleep, so not a soul will see a sight that is only, will only be for Akechi.    
  
Robin Hood hates this, Loki loves this.   
  
Akechi absorbs Kurusu’s body heat into his own and feels hot, hot enough to keep them both warm as he presses their bodies closer and farther, closer and farther and Kurusu lets him

The movements not rough enough to wake him up---   
  
Against the cleft of the thief’s ass, he is half hard and he halts his hips.   
  
What are you doing? Robin Hood demands.   
  
You know what you’re doing, Loki reprimands.   
  
Kurusu whines, his body trembling still and he moves his hips aimlessly as he buries his face into the pillow. He’s the most honest Akechi has ever seen him, he thinks, and he can’t even see the thief’s face. “I...”   
  
Akechi doesn’t hear the rest of his words, Kurusu’s lower body attempts to turn but Akechi’s arm won’t let it. In the end, he curls more into himself. The curve of his ass rubs against Akechi and Akechi bites his tongue.   
  
Stop, he’s asleep.   
  
Akechi’s left hand ventures down a set of abs to find the waistband of sweatpants. He scratches the elastic but doesn’t yet allow his hand passage. He can feel Kurusu, his heat and waking desire, and Kurusu moans faintly once more. It sounds like a whimper and Akechi thinks he can hear him mouth nonsense into his pillow.   
  
Don’t stop, he’s dreaming.   
  
Akechi kisses Kurusu’s nape, licks his lips and the sleeping boy’s skin in one go as he cups Kurusu through his clothes. The thief shudders again, lost in his dream, and thrusts. It feels good, Akechi wishes he weren’t so warm and needy as the movement of Kurusu’s hips rubs him as well so that he may pull away.   
  
So that he could pull away and leave, so that he could pull away and observe.   
  
“Ah…!”   
  
Kurusu gasps very prettily, Akechi wonders if he knows that and he grinds against him. Honestly, he hopes he doesn’t.   
  
He accidentally gets lost in the rhythm, ruts against Kurusu’s hips so hard that he ends up dictating their momentum and he squeezes Kurusu through the layer. The thief’s voice sounds like a whimper anew, and Akechi doesn’t want to stop.   
  
This is wrong. This feels good. And Kurusu dreams so too.    
  
It’s too much, he lightly nibbles on Kurusu’s earlobe as his hand finally snakes itself under Kurusu’s clothes, as his fingers finally circle the heated flesh- he wants to see it badly, he wants to never get to see it. His erection is nestled between Kurusu’s cheeks as he grinds, Akechi wishes to never have started this, to have sneaked off in the middle of the night on his bike just as much as he wants to be buried inside of him, feel his core work him up and rub him to completion.

Would he sleep through that too? Would he let himself be taken, tainted and satiated so easily? Akechi wonders and twitches in the confinement of borrowed pyjamas.    
  
“Please,” Kurusu begs, and Akechi hates whomever he thinks he is begging for- even if this was never meant to be his in mind, spirit and reality. Spite borne jealousy flares in his stomach and he wants to take more, more, until he took all only to then take it all again.    
  
Part of him is disgusted at how he takes advantage of the other’s rest, but he still licks the nape of Kurusu’s neck again. The licking shifts to sucking, and Akechi stops himself before he leaves too big of a mark. He doesn’t have the right to, not when Kurusu can’t even say no.   
  
He feels like a mosquito, but he is so much more- Akechi gives Kurusu what he wants.   
  
Kurusu stutters in body and voice and peaks as Akechi keeps rutting against him. He doesn’t want to stop, wants to keep going and going, but he’s only human, only an eighteen year old, and he cums in borrowed clothes pressed through layers and layers between Kurusu’s cheeks.   
  
He pulls his hand away as they both come down from their highs.

Seconds later, Kurusu sits up panting. All too quickly, the post haze orgasm that was fogging Akechi’s brain clouds in alarm but Kurusu just looks embarrassed and mortified.   
  
His face is so flushed, so pretty and annoying. He looks delectable in blacks, whites and reds. Akechi wants to vomit.   
  
“This… doesn’t usually happen,” he speaks softly.   
  
Akechi can imagine it doesn’t. People usually didn’t feel up, touch nor give handjobs to a sleeping enemy. Nobody was supposed to be awake and see his momentary fall into temptation. So he doesn’t say anything, and avoids his grey eyes.    
  
“I- I don’t usually have wet dreams,” Kurusu coughs and hides his face behind his hand. He groans, loud and long, as he swings a leg over Akechi. 

The detective already spilled but he feels interest resurfacing and bubbling under his skin. He wants to grab Kurusu’s hips and pull him flush against his own body, but the thief gets off the bed instead of straddling him. “I’m-”   
  
Akechi watches Kurusu bite his lips and wriggle his hips uncomfortably. The detective can imagine it- the mess between Kurusu's legs trailing down his thighs underneath all the fabric.   
  
“I’m sorry.”   
  
“You have nothing to apologize for,” The detective whispers as he shakes his head, and Kurusu takes a spare change of clothes downstairs with him.   
  
Robin Hood sighs, Loki exhales- his underwear feels sticky and the bed cold.

**Author's Note:**

> https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=1041889 <\-- The kink meme prompt that spawned this. You can also read the none read over even once version of this here, lol.
> 
> (They called each other by family name because they felt first names were too intimate until then shhh)
> 
> I'm blaming my posting this now on a friend ty


End file.
